<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>How To (Not) Torture Your Human by Serena_Rose</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28802940">How To (Not) Torture Your Human</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serena_Rose/pseuds/Serena_Rose'>Serena_Rose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Good Place (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>But no characters so doesn't really count as a crossover I think?, Enemies to Friends, F/M, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Friendship, Harry Potter References, No beta we get marblelised like Janets, One-Sided Attraction, Unrequited Cheleanor mention (it's mid S2), Unresolved Romantic Tension, pre-relationship (maybe)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:47:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28802940</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serena_Rose/pseuds/Serena_Rose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're a terrible demon, y'know." she whispered; "...But you're becoming an awesome friend."</p><p>Eleanor is in need of a distraction from pining over an oblivious Chidi. Michael has the perfect idea.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Michael (The Good Place) &amp; Eleanor Shellstrop, Michael (The Good Place)/Eleanor Shellstrop</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>How To (Not) Torture Your Human</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Okay, so anyone who is familiar with my works knows I'm not usually one for fluff but...fork it, writing this just kept bringing a smile to my face. It's weird and I feel wrong and I can't wait to get back to the whump I know best. But anyway, enjoy!</p><p>Song lyrics: Pink - Raise Your Glass</p><p>Big thanks to Cecret, my lovely, for the Hogwarts simulation idea.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Soft?</p><p>
  <em>Soft?</em>
</p><p>Michael stomps down the pathway, fists flexing in and out at his sides with the pulse of the tension running through his essence. How dare they accuse him of that? They’re supposed to be his subordinates and yet there he sat, on the wrong side of his desk, in his office, being laughed at by Vicky and Gunner because they were convinced they were doing oh-so-much better a job than him. All he could do was grit his teeth, keep on that plastered smile, wishing he could reveal the truth. That all of the misery they were convinced they’d caused in the past couple of weeks was all for show. But whatever. He was used to playing that game already. The humble boss conceding power to his employees to do a better job.</p><p>That was fine. It was a necessary ‘fake-torture’ for him to endure, just as the humans had to. If anything, it almost left him feeling oddly closer to his…, ha, <em>team</em>. They were all having to live through pretending to suffer in some way at the hands of these other demons, just as they were also having to sit through Chidi’s boring, dumb lessons. And Chidi himself got to be tortured trying to teach them – so the pain was fairly shared around.</p><p>But <em>this?</em></p><p>Michael kicks over one of the flower pots on the side as he rounds the corner, batting away a tree branch that almost hit in him in the face from where he wasn’t paying attention.</p><p>
  <em>“Admit it, Mike. You’ve just lost what it takes to hurt these cockroaches.” Vicky had sneered, feet up on his desk, reminding him to polish it later, “You’ve spent waaay too much time pretending to be their gooey angel pal that I think you’ve forgotten it’s an act.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Nonsense.” He’d deflected, crossing his hands in his lap; “I’m just method acting! You should understand that! It helps me keep character.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Your character being a soft lamoid with a hard-on for humans?” Gunner, who once upon a time would not have dared make such an outrageous remark to his boss, now confidently joked.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The others cackled and swapped high-fives. All Michael could do was pretend to laugh it off.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He had to sit on his hand to stop himself from snapping his fingers and exploding the to-go cups of coffee in their hands like paper grenades.</em>
</p><p>Great. This meant it hadn’t gone unnoticed how much time he’d been spending visiting the humans in their homes…well, mostly the clown house for the ethics lessons. Tahani’s mansion was still mostly just a gathering for daily events, not somewhere he would have cared to visit on his own free time. Well, except that one time she offered to help him sort out what outfits he needed to throw out of his rotation. And also that time Jason practically begged him to play some Madden in his bud hole…which he so would have won if he’d been allowed to use his magic. But those didn’t count!</p><p>It’s the clown house, Eleanor’s house, the house that’s up ahead of him like a lost café from Legoland, that he’s spent almost more time in lately than his own office – especially when it’s being hijacked by Vicky. They honestly think he hangs out there because he enjoys spending time with those humans?! Puh-lease! If it wasn’t for this stupid truce…</p><p>Fork. That’s all it is. Just the truce.</p><p>He might have offered ‘new best friends’ at the start of that deal but, aside from Jason, they were all smart enough to know that wasn’t serious. It was just an alliance of convenience, nothing more. Eleanor knew better than to trust him and she was right to. She’d still be right! If a better option comes along to save his own ash then, obviously, he’s going to jump at it and leave them all behind to fry. Would a soft demon or lame angel do that?</p><p>His feet pause on the gravel as he stares ahead. What if it’s not just the demons who have got the wrong idea about him?</p><p>What if…the humans have too?</p><p>Well, he doesn’t expect Jason to be aware of what’s going on for long enough to be afraid of him. The guy grew up sharing weed with the local crocodiles. Tahani is…pleasant and tries her best but there’s always that air of caution she’s right to keep when near him. Honestly, she has the least to worry about. She was the first one where it became too boring and repetitive to torture her. There’s only so many times you can watch a human cry until it stops being funny….usually past the seventieth tear. As for Chidi? The dull as dishwater dork may have got him to admit defeat with the whole trolley problem thing…but at least they knew were each other stood. Surely he knew better than to push Michael too hard unless he wanted to be forced to run over a simulation of his parents and have his fake father’s intestines splattered into his mouth next time. No, most of the humans knew he was still a potential threat, someone to be respected…a little feared. How it should be.</p><p>He walks closer to the house. Then he spots the answer to his problems, sat on the doorstep, curled forward with her head in her hands. There she is. The fly in his ointment. The staple amongst his paperclips.</p><p>Eleanor.</p><p>Forking Eleanor!</p><p>It’s always her. She’s the one who messes up each and every one of his plans. She’s the one who never once has shown a single tremble around him after realising what he was. Damn it, if anything, she was always more nervous when she believed he was a dumb angel falling for her deceit. Whenever she pulled the mask off of him and his operation, there was never a gasp of horror or so much as a flinch. Quite the opposite, she would be all up in his face, full of swagger and that smug grin, eyes flashing with self-pride from her achievement.</p><p>No matter what he did, no matter how many petty threats he made about throwing elephants, or making things explode around her, she never made a single squeak. All he got for his efforts to scare her was that laugh. That…righteous, confident, oh-so-clever laugh that chimed against his ears. The laugh that both enraged and enticed him to keep trying (but not to hear her laugh more, no way). Even after their truce, after she’d accepted him onto their team, he had kept trying. It was what made their study groups so bearable, getting his own personal fun with Eleanor Shellstrop, free to be his true Satanic self around her in all his sinful glory. Wearing the mask had begun so exhausting. It was a relief to no longer have to keep up the act, waiting for the inevitable moment where she saw through him, they could cut right to the funnest part of all the previous attempts. And he could be free to show off the extent of his powers around her without needing to erase her memory.</p><p>That’s how it had started. But then, quickly, way too quickly, their study dates had become less about him scaring her and more…something else. Somewhere along the past few days, he had stopped hungering for her fear and more for her…being impressed. Seeing that mouth form an ‘o’ of wonder, to see those eye sparkle with awe, to hear that laugh. That forking laugh. Except it had no longer been at him but…with him.</p><p>From making fun of the others together, books on Kant and May cast aside in the sand, to giving her that damn shrimp dispenser as part of his ‘apology’. Something about seeing her face light up with joy made him feel all…fuzzy.</p><p>Or maybe she was secretly laughing at him, just like the demons. Laughing for thinking she had started to tame the big bad demon. Getting him to build her simulation of theme park, complete with vomiting children. Daring him to make a realistic MMA tournament that she got ring-side seats to watch.</p><p>Michael’s fists curl up tight as he spots her. The sneaky little wretch had been manipulating him into using his powers to give her what she wanted. She’d been subtly moulding him into her own personal, magical butler. Bewitching him with that laugh and those eyes and that weird Eleanor-y energy she had around her which always seemed to influence the neighbourhood and Janet’s energy, as if she possessed some trace of her own secret magic. She’s no ordinary human. That much is clear.</p><p>No mere human could do this to him. Make him weak.</p><p>Soft.</p><p>His jaw sets, teeth grinding as he keeps his eyes fixed on her. She hasn’t noticed him approach yet. She’ll be more than aware of his presence soon enough.</p><p>If there are demons keeping an eye on him then he’ll give them a show worth watching.</p><p>He’ll remind them all, along with Eleanor, that he is the professional torturer here. He’s not some lazy, clueless millennial. He’s been pulling these humans inside out like used gloves since they were still throwing spears and trying to make shoes out of horse poop. He’s the one who made Caligula cry for his mommy, for Here’s sake!</p><p>With those last few steps closer to the house, he thinks about what he should do. Nothing too harsh, of course, nothing to break their little agreement. Something that can be played off as a prank. A need for him to let off steam like last time.</p><p>He rubs his finger and thumb together. Should he make her hair fall out? How about her teeth?</p><p>Should he create a giant shrimp to try to eat her?</p><p>His shoe snaps a stray twig and causes her to look up. Her face is…wet? Because her eyes are leaking. He frowns, for some reason only now noticing the shards of red glass hanging in the air around her, the points all turned in as if ready to stab her at all sides. He blinks, taken aback by how fractured the energy around her feels, sharp and defensive like a fence of razor wire.</p><p>…How had he not seen it? Had he been that focused, that angry, he just…missed it?</p><p>She always manages to do that, somehow. She frustrates him to a point where his powers, his very natural senses, are suddenly defunct. What the fork is she?</p><p>Eleanor sniffs, frowning at the glare on his face as he stares at her, no doubt. Her arms stay folded around her middle.</p><p>“What do you want, man? Can’t the fake torture update wait till morning?” Her voice is strained. She’s been crying out here for a while.</p><p>Not the fake ‘this place is miserable’ crying she’s almost perfected either. The real deal.</p><p>“No, I…” He finds the words he had started to prepare commit suicide before they exit his lips.</p><p>
  <em>I’m here to torture you. I just need to prove to my colleagues I still got it. You understand, right? It’s nothing personal. Well actually, it’s very personal, because I can’t stand you and you’re the one who kept forking this up for me, why couldn’t you have just carried on tormenting the others?! Why did you have to keep being so difficult and impossible to predict?! Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me? To my career?! To everything I’ve existed for! How could you be so selfish? Or…not selfish enough, that’s the problem! So just let me get it over with-</em>
</p><p>“Then what? You just wanted to get your own fix?” Eleanor opens her arms out, scowling, “Here! Have a free sample of my misery to enjoy! It’s all yours.”</p><p>He sees the tears on her face, the lines of anger in her brow above a pair of reddened eyes, tainting their usual grey-blue shine. The shards in her aura begin to crack even more. If they don’t lunge in on her then they’ll crumble and rain down on her like tiny flecks of frozen tears. Either way, she’s a pressure cooker of emotions ready to boil over and scald herself or whoever is near.</p><p>Michael rubs his thumb again. She’s right. She’s already upset. It might not be necessary to take away her teeth or her hair. He could just take credit for the pain she’s in now, if anyone asks. It’s a free win. He should be happy he arrived at the perfect time.</p><p>But he’s not. He’s far from happy.</p><p>Why? What the fork is wrong with him?</p><p>Is it because it’s not a real win? He’s not the reason she’s crying….is he? She doesn’t seem to be blaming him, he rationalises, feeling an odd sense of relief.</p><p>He should take advantage of this chance while her defences are down. Hit her while she’s weak.</p><p>Just do it, Mikey. Make her remember who’s the immortal, all-powerful being here. Make her remember what you’re trying to ‘save’ her from by being on her side. Make her be grateful. Make her tremble. Make her…</p><p>“Are you okay?” The words tumble out before he can stop them.</p><p>She looks as baffled by the question as he is for asking. She has that look in her eye that makes him feel like an idiot for asking such a dumb question. But there’s also a suspicious furrow in her brow at why he would care to ask in the first place.</p><p>He has no forking idea.</p><p>“I’m fine.” She looks to the side.</p><p>“Then why the crying?”</p><p>Eleanor forces a smirk, rubbing at her face.</p><p>“Onions.” She claims.</p><p>“I can’t smell any onions.” Never mind the fact that she rarely cooks, at least nothing that takes more effort than peeling back clingfilm and turning the microwave on.</p><p>“I haven’t started peeling them yet…I just get sad at the thought of ripping their skin off.” She quips, struggling to laugh it off; “I mean it’s not like they can give consent.”</p><p>It’s a lame joke for her efforts, another sign for Michael that she’s very much not okay. <em>Good, right? The whole reason I’m here was to make her not okay. To remind her this is definitely no ‘Good Place’.</em></p><p>He should turn and walk away. There’s no point of him being here now something else has got to her first. There’ll be other days to prove himself. He can wait until she’s riding a high again and he can rush in to push her off the edge and watch her fall. And good luck getting him to catch her. He hardly owes her anything. It’s not like she’s helped him when he was at his lowest point. It’s not like she came to find him and push him to do what he needed to do to be allowed back in the team. It’s not like she means anything special to him. Not at all.</p><p>Except that she’s <em>fun</em>. She’s…fun to be around. And if she stays like this, all wet faced and making bad jokes, she’ll stop being fun. She’ll be a drag, a bummer, just like the nerd she pines over. He can’t have that. The thought of her becoming not fun, not Eleanor, suddenly overtakes any fear he has of his colleagues thinking less of him.</p><p>“What happened?” He knows she wouldn’t cry like this without good reason. He could count the times she’s truly broke down into tears in the past three hundred years on one hand, with a digit or two to spare.</p><p>Eleanor shakes her head; “I really don’t wanna talk about it, bud.”</p><p>“Okay…” he’s ready to leave it at that until he remembers her words; “But someone told me once that if you ignore sadness, it ends up leaking out of you.”</p><p>“Trust me, dude, I’m not ignoring being sad. Very hard to ghost that bench right now, if you haven’t noticed from the puffiness.” She remarks, waving at her face; “Why d’you think I’m out here? <em>Chidi’s</em> in the bathroom so I can’t reach the toilet plunger.”</p><p>He snaps his fingers and hands one to her.</p><p>She looks at it, then at him, before managing a laugh that breaks through her sob as she takes it.</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>He watches as she clutches it in hands, not burying her face in the rubber end. He thought he heard it. That little bite of the way she pronounced Chidi’s name. It repeats in his head as he watches the way her lip wobbles.</p><p>“Did he do something?” The question comes from a hot pit in his stomach.</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“Chidi…Is he the reason you’re out here crying? Did he do something to upset you?!” No way, surely. He was such a goody-good that it was agonising to be around. The nerd was one conversion away from being forking Ned Flanders. He’d never be intentionally mean. The only pain he ever inflicted those around him came from his ridiculous indecisiveness. Or being such a stickler for those Kantian laws of his.</p><p>Or maybe he said something to make Eleanor feel like a failure the way he’d made Michael feel dumb and small before? So, what if she wasn’t perfect, so what if she did the wrong thing now and then, couldn’t he see that made her so much more interesting than the others?!</p><p>Eleanor doesn’t deny it. Her mouth just hangs open.</p><p>All right then.</p><p>“I think a few hours inside the purple space bubble will teach our professor a lesson.” Michael moves to walk past her.</p><p>“Woah, woah! Calm down, Liam Neeson!” She stands between him and the red door, fingers stretched out and grazing his shirt; “Chidi didn’t say or do anything, I swear!”</p><p>Oh.</p><p>He steps back, embarrassment rising in his cheeks for getting so heated up about it.</p><p>Eleanor sighs; “That’s the forking problem.”</p><p><em>Oh</em>.</p><p>He watches the tiny red fragments of glass begin to fall down and pierce her skin without her knowing or being aware of how they make her shudder. She wraps her arms around herself again. That won’t protect her from them. He wonders if some sort of eighth dimension umbrella is possible to summon. It makes him wince to watch them.</p><p>Right. Nothing more needs to be explained. Michael might still be rather dense when it comes to understanding human relationships, but he knows Chidi. And he knows Eleanor. More to the point, he knows how Eleanor feels about Chidi more than he cares to. He has to watch her make those gooey lovesick eyes at him during class when he’s droning on about the most boring things ever when she could be watching Michael make a paper bazooka out of his notebook pages. And he knows that Chidi being the idiot that he is can’t see what’s literally staring at him from the other side of those glasses.</p><p>“Did he turn you down or something?”</p><p>Eleanor sighs; “Not exactly but…I’m right there, man! I’m in the same house as him, I’m flirting my ash off and he has zero interest! He looks at his bookmarks with more lust in his eyes than at me.”</p><p>It might not be a good idea to tell her that on Chidi’s lists of ‘ideal Heavenly experiences’ was the ability to date literature.</p><p>“Can’t you just…ask him out? It’s not like you haven’t made the first moves in previous reboots.” It sounds so trivial to him. Why is it upsetting her so much? Why does she care so much for what someone else thinks, least of all that dweeb?</p><p>She sighs, “I would if I felt any…vibe coming from his end but I don’t! It’s like instead of being Rose flirting with Jack, I’m the Titanic flirting with the ice burg. I feel totally stuck in the friendzone. I mean I drip-dry in the nude and instead of ogling me like a normal human male, he covers his eyes or goes in the next room, all respectful and shirt…Ugh, and that makes me want him more! What’s wrong with me?!”</p><p>Her knuckles clench as she rubs her eyes. Well, at least she’s self-aware how strange it is for her to act like this. Since when has she ever got so upset over a guy not being into her? And if it did bother her, the Eleanor from the file wouldn’t be crying on a doorstep, she’d be out getting drunk and finding the nearest potential to move on to…Though her options here are probably limited.</p><p>Michael watches as her butt falls back onto the step, hands holding her elbows. She looks…deflated. Thankfully, the tension is far less sharp around her but now there’s an icky black cloud swirling.</p><p>“I shouldn’t be telling you this.” She murmurs.</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>“Because you don’t wanna hear it, you think it’s lame and you’re totally right.” Eleanor groans, “I doubt you came over here to listen to me whine about my crush.”</p><p>“True but…I’m still here, aren’t I.” He shuffles his feet, awkwardly, not sure why he’s there but he is.</p><p>He moves to sit beside her, barely a metre of air between them.</p><p>“Do you…want a hug or something?”</p><p>That seemed to be what humans do when one is crying. Maybe it’s to quiet them down by smothering them with a fellow body.</p><p>“You asking my permission?” She turns to him, bemused.</p><p>“Well last time I got physically close to you, I wound up with a knife in my back.”</p><p>She laughs again, “And you think my consent will protect you from being stabbed?”</p><p>“No but I asked Janet to improve the defences on my skin-suit so I’m not so worried, unless you’ve got some magical silver dagger hidden somewhere.”</p><p>After the note fiasco, he was always careful to check Janet’s mouth in case of some secret storage attempt from the previous reboot. A few times he’d found more notes, sometimes photographs of each other, a gun, and one time just a doughnut he assumed Jason put in there, probably assuming Janet was a fridge.</p><p>“Weak to silver, huh? I appreciate you sharing that info. Very…werewolf.” She gives a smirk; “And I’ll pass on the hug if you don’t mind. It’s nothing personal…m’just really not in a touchy mood tonight, bud.”</p><p>Oh. Good. He doesn’t have to pretend to like them then.</p><p>She wants to be left alone? Well, she didn’t exactly say that, but she wants her space…He should just go. She’s not fun like this. Not worth torturing or messing around with or even helping to study if she can’t concentrate. He has no reason to stay.</p><p>But why does the thought of leaving her with that heavy black cloud over her head make him feel so sick?</p><p>“Is there anything I can do to…help?” Wow, he said that without gagging.</p><p>Eleanor gives him a weak smile; “I doubt any shrimp dispenser or Six Flags rollercoaster is gonna be enough to cheer me up right now. But thanks for the offer.”</p><p>Is that the best she thinks he’s capable of? Oh, the poor, small-minded human.</p><p>Now, let’s think, what could he do to…Ah! Yes, of course!</p><p>“What’re you grinning at? You look like creepy Alice in Wonderland cat.” she chides him, curiosity glinting in her eyes.</p><p>“Well, I’ve never tried anything quite this big before, so if you’d be okay volunteering as my guinea pig-.”</p><p>“Dude, if you’re gonna turn me into an animal, I told you before – at least give me wings. Or fire breath. Or Mila Kunis.”</p><p>“I meant to test out a bigger simulation than one I’ve done before.” He explains, getting to his feet and standing in front of her; “I promise you’ll like it! And if you’re not impressed, you can just say and I’ll leave you here to be all emo. Deal?”</p><p>He holds out his hand.</p><p>Her lips curve and she hesitates, slightly, before relenting with an eyeroll.</p><p>Eleanor reaches her hand out onto his palm, letting his fingers curl over it and tug her up onto her feet.</p><p>“Close your eyes.”</p><p>Another eye-roll. They’ll fall out of her sockets if she’s not careful. But she does as she’s told.</p><p>Michael concentrates for a moment, double checking that he’s channelling the energy from Janet just right to fit all the descriptions he has on file from various sources, both books and adaptation as well as Eleanor’s own imagination. It needs to be perfect…if for no other reason than to prove to her what he’s capable of.</p><p>Once he’s satisfied, he snaps his fingers.</p><p>“Okay. Open up.”</p><p>She does.</p><p>The shift in her expression from morose to awe is instant. Her jaw drops, her eyes widening as they take in her new surroundings that have replaced the outside of her clown house and the large front lawn.</p><p>“Holy forking shirt…” She whispers and, for once, it’s a reaction he hoped to provoke.</p><p>They’re standing on a great stone viaduct, part of the enormous castle that surrounds them, large, round towers reaching up into the starry sky above their heads. A lake stretches out around two thirds of the building between the highland hills rolling back against Scottish mountains. Most humans would probably assume they had been transported to the northern British land but, judging by the light appearing in her face, Eleanor knows it’s more than that.</p><p>He can’t help but keep his eyes on her as she runs her palm along the stone walls, checking they’re real, before running along into the courtyard which is alight with tiny blue fairies gathering around the trees. She looks like a kid on Christmas morning…ironic, considering those were hardly exciting experiences for her, unless her dad had won his latest poker game instead of gambling away her bike. The dark cloud is already parting. There’s a strange satisfaction that buzzes in his chest with the knowledge that <em>he</em> did that.</p><p>He felt it before when he gave her the shrimp dispenser. Something about being the cause of that smile on her face thrilled him more than any teeth pulling or penis flattening had done in his existence.</p><p>“You…made me a Hogwarts?!” She beams, finding a rack of Nimbus Two-Thousand broomsticks next to a Gryffindor coat she happily throws on.</p><p>“Like I said, it’s one of the biggest simulations I’ve ever attempted, so apologies if there are some glitches. There might be some classrooms without solid floors and some of the owls might have bat wings but, other than that, should be how you always desired.” He pushes open the doors into the spacious hallways, “Also, a place this size, I had to cut down on the virtual people. So you pretty much have the whole castle to yourself…But I could probably bring one or two NPC’s if you have anyone in particular you’d like to curse?”</p><p>Eleanor looks at him, clearly wondering if he means what she’s thinking he means.</p><p>He smiles again and presents her with a long, thin, black stick.</p><p>“Every witch needs a wand, right?” He hands it to her.</p><p>“Oh, this is so forking cool!” She bounces on her feet as she takes it, “Wait…I don’t have to know any Latin, do I?”</p><p>“No, it’s the same as the language filter at home, just think what you’d want and let the wand do the rest.”</p><p>She gives it a swish and one of the Knights standing ramrod against the wall turns into a very realistic statue of Stone Cold Steve Austin.</p><p>There’s a squeal and a jump from the human at his side.</p><p>“Ha! Suck it theatre that kicked me out of watching the second one for shouting at the screen! Now look who’s the real winner!” She keeps waving the wand around, almost like a sword, and Michael stands back in slight worry of losing an eye…or gaining one.</p><p>She then focuses on him, jabbing the tip into his arm.</p><p>“Now what curse could I put on you, bud? <em>Clotheros Removo</em>?” Her eyes scan him up and down. He catches her wrist before she can make a swish, payback for her catching him in mid-snap a week ago.</p><p>“I don’t think so. A simple thank you, Michael, will do.”</p><p>“Nah, I can do better than that. How about you going on a tour of this place with me, huh?” She rushes back to the rack of clothes and grabs a green-lined robe, throwing it to him; “C’mon, you’re totally a Slytherin! Or at least, a Hufflepuff pretending to be one.”</p><p>Ouch. Is she going to start teasing him about being soft now?! He just created an enchanted castle, surely it’s obvious how powerful he is! She’s just lucky he’s using it to…not-hurt or annoy her.</p><p>“Conjure up your own wand, bud. I know you’ve got the finger snap thing but, when in British Rome.” She tells him; “I say we settle this long-ash rivalry we’ve had going on with a magic duel, now that we’re equally matched and all.”</p><p>“In your dreams, Shellstrop.” He whips out a slightly nobbled oak wand from his sleeve.</p><p>“And after this, we’re gonna race on some broomsticks and then mix some potions. Also I wanna ride one of those invisible dead horses!”</p><p>Michael shrugs on the Slytherin robe, unable to ignore how contagious her excitement is.</p><p>“Whatever you wish.”</p><p>So long as it stops her moping over Chidi. So long as it keeps her being fun.</p><p>So long as she smiles.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>* * *</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>How many times had he hung out with Eleanor over the past three centuries? For the first two hundred reboots, he’d tried his best to avoid such an incident as their first ‘day off’ happening again, given how it had thrown him off his game and been the catalyst for the turn of events which ended up collapsing his entire plan. No, there was to be no ‘befriending’ Eleanor Shellstrop, there was to be no announcement of retirement, no killing of Janet, no exposing herself and so on.</p><p>The ugly yellow toddler from that day had sat still in its casing with its single eye fixed on him as he scribbled down new idea after new idea. His paperclip bracelet had been thrown in the bowl with its siblings when the jangling became too irritating to hear.</p><p>And then, during attempt #203, he’d caved.</p><p>Ask her to be his assistant, make her paranoid, get her to distract him with a trip to the arcade – only this time, just go a different route than offering to retire himself! Simple!</p><p>Well, it hadn’t worked out quite that well, and barely two weeks later, Eleanor was shouting “This is the Bad Place!” from atop the clock tower again.</p><p>But at least he’d got to have some fun.</p><p>And every now and then when Michael would tell himself, what the fork did it matter, he would set the whole thing up again. It was the only excuse he had to go to the damn arcade, seeing as there were hardly any other demons eager to go with him. It was never quite the same as the first time, with having to fake his newfound excitement for meaningless human activities, but it always hit his chest the same when she would part with those words; <em>“I’ll see you tomorrow, friend.”</em></p><p>It was a breath of fresh air to get that same kick in a new setting. An entire wizard school left to themselves provided more than enough games that Eleanor seemed to have been wanting to live out since she was a teenager.</p><p>And for Michael, having lived his entire existence around magic and all the supernatural powers the Universe offered, found experiencing it all in such an Earth-like setting far more enjoyable than anything before. He had gone flying more times than he could remember, but on a broomstick?! How nonsensical but wonderful! All to catch some crazy buzzing gold bee abomination! Which he so would have done had Eleanor not distracted him and snatched it from in front of his face. Then there was mixing all the potions, tossing all sorts of ingredients in for a drink that gave Eleanor a pig snout and himself a pair of antlers he was tempted to keep. He’s sure that she threw some tequila in those cauldrons because neither of them are able to walk straight or stop laughing, even after they’ve taken the antidotes for the other side-effects.</p><p>Only after they’ve exhausted testing random spells on simulations of their friends and some of the other demons – Eleanor having quite a few she needed to take out on a fake-Chidi – they end up sat at a table in the Great Hall all to themselves, picking at as much of never-ending buffet laid out before them.</p><p>“I can still remember my cousin bragging about taking Julie to that whole Warner Bros studio to see these sets. Well, I got the real deal, bench! Suck it!” Eleanor laughs, throwing a <em>Every Flavour Bean</em> into the air and catching it in her mouth.</p><p>“And to think you only had to die to experience it!” Michael chuckles.</p><p>“Die, go to Hell and team up with Satan…Totally worth it.” She says while chewing before gagging in disgust; “Ugh. Clam chowder.”</p><p>“Ha, bad luck, I got red velvet cake.” He smiles as he eats his, not telling her the truth that it’s actually pigeon dung.</p><p>“Y’know, when we were cursing all those dummies, I’m surprised you didn’t make one of me. I bet I drove you bananas over the past eight hundred reboots, right?” She tilts her head slightly, sitting with one leg half-raised up on the bench, brushing his knee.</p><p>He smirks, swallowing his bean.</p><p>“Don’t need to. I can always torture the real thing right in front of me.” He says, peering at her warningly.</p><p>“Hmm. Yet you seem to spend a Hell of a lotta time ‘opposite torturing’ me, as you say.” She nudges him with her toe; “I’m starting to think you might like me, Mikey boy.”</p><p>There’s that flutter in his chest again. His fingers squeeze one of the beans as he reaches into the bag.</p><p>“Or maybe I just felt sorry for you, seeing you all bummed about your ‘ex’.” He deflects.</p><p>“Yeah, that still doesn’t sound very ‘demon-y’, bud. Looks like you were serious when you told Chidi you were ready to start paying attention to his lessons.”</p><p>He shuffles in his seat; “Did you think I was lying again?”</p><p>“No…In fact it means Tahani owes me one of her diamonds.”</p><p>He looks across at her and she smiles, head leaning on her knuckles as she stares at him, her grin all too catching as he gives a soft chuckle. She was really ready to bet on him sticking to his word? To being truly on their team? That wasn’t exactly smart of her, he’d even been up front and told them as such, it would be foolish to trust him. She knew that.</p><p>Yet she was starting to believe in him that he was capable of being better? Of being true to them after all he’d put them through?</p><p>There’s no way he was worthy of that…was there?</p><p>“Anyway,” Eleanor sits up; “I guess we can’t stay here forever, as great as that would be. And we have that pop quiz tomorrow so I gotta be up early to cram some last-minute studying.”</p><p>“You mean jot down the answers on your wrist?”</p><p>“That’s basically the same thing, it’s just another way of remembering!” She defends.</p><p>Michael goes to stand up.</p><p>“I do have one last bit of this to show you. It won’t take long, I just thought we should end with a good climax.”</p><p>“That’s always been my motto…But probably not in the way you mean.”</p><p>“Disgusting. No.” Michael cringes and shakes his head; “How about, instead, your favorite moment from book four?”</p><p>Eleanor’s eyes widen and she rubs her palms together.</p><p>“All right! Conjure me up a dragon, demon dude!”</p><p>He gives her a look, “Not that bit…Your <em>real</em> favorite moment. The chapter you always re-read the most, that you folded the pages over, even spilled some ketchup on when you read it at the bus stop-.”</p><p>“How could you-?”</p><p>“Remember. I know <em>everything</em> about you.” He tells her in that low voice and, just for the one second, the most satisfying of moments caught in time, she almost looks truly spellbound by his abilities.</p><p>He snaps his fingers.</p><p>The décor of the large chamber transforms into a wintry theme with the weather on the ceiling changing to a light fluttering of snow. The floor turns into a light blue sheet of ice that still feels as sturdy and supportive as the hardwood before. The tables disappear to the walls and a band appears on the stage in place of the teacher’s podium, filling the room with eighties style rock. There are ice cream fountains and giant snow-cones as well as huge towers of plates containing nothing but shrimp.</p><p>“What better way to end than a wizard party, right? Or, what’s it called, the Yule Ball?” He says, watching the range of emotions on her face as she takes it in; “Eleanor Shellstrop. Not only are you a nerd but you’re a <em>romantic</em> nerd, too!”</p><p>“Shut up!” she shoves him in the chest, blushing furiously, unable to hold back her laughter.</p><p>“Oh, right, almost forgot. We can’t be underdressed.” He snaps his fingers again.</p><p>He modifies his suit a little to be more in line with the ‘dress robes’ the male characters wore in this chapter…that he remembered from Eleanor’s memory, not that he read it himself. His jacket transforms into a black and red-trimmed longtail coat reaching down to his knees, his shirt and trousers matching while his bow-tie turns velvet.</p><p>Meanwhile, Eleanor stands and admires the long, red, vintage, shoulder-less gown that’s appeared on her body, brushing her fingers over the skirt.</p><p>“Like the one you sketched in the back of your copy you stole from the library, right?” Michael smirks; “Go on, give it a twirl.”</p><p>She meets his eyes and then smiles, curious again, before giving a quick spin on her heels.</p><p>The ruffles on the skirt erupt into a dazzling but harmless fire, crackling and popping as the embers rise up around her until she stops and the flames quickly die down, the red fabric as pristine as ever. There’s no sign of a singe or a whiff of smoke in the air, just Eleanor’s bedazzled grin through the tiny orange sparks floating around her.</p><p>She laughs, speechless for a moment before she takes a breath; “Dude…I can’t believe you knew about that shirt.”</p><p>Michael suddenly notices the little bumps rise along her arms.</p><p>“Are you cold? The snow here is only artificial.” So is everything, really, but that’s not the point.</p><p>She shakes her head, a redness appearing in her cheeks; “No, m’fine, I’m just…”</p><p>“Oh, Eleanor, are you embarrassed?” He teases.</p><p>“No!” She pokes her finger, hands covered in a pair of long red gloves, at his chest; “I was just a kid, we all imagine stupid things when we’re young and dumb.”</p><p>“You were twenty.”</p><p>“Hey, you said I’m pushing three hundred and I’m still a young, dumb kid! That ain’t changing anytime soon, bud.” She says, shamelessly; “And you can talk, you share a birthday with the Big Bang and you’re about as mature as Bart Simpson.”</p><p>“Hey!”</p><p>“Sorry, that was unfair…<em>Maggie</em>.”</p><p>He’s not sure if that’s better or worse.</p><p>Before he can think of a comeback, she’s reaching her hand out to grab his wrist.</p><p>“C’mon, dummy, let’s burn up this dance floor.”</p><p>He let’s her drag him into the centre of the hallway, suddenly feeling as though he would let her drag him into the heart of the sun without a struggle.</p><p>
  <em>Don’t be fancy, just get dancey,<br/>
Why so serious?</em>
</p><p>Michael watches her. She’s throwing her soul into the beat of the song, completely letting go, all those shards of self-doubt and rejection lingering around her now gone. It’s impossible for them to pierce the shield of light around her now, glowing as bright as the flames on her dress that rise and fall with each twirl and jump she makes, her hair like flowing sunshine around her face…</p><p>How long has he just been stood there, staring at her, before she notices and grabs his hands again.</p><p>“I don’t have to teach you how to dance, do I!” Her fingers link between his.</p><p>“’Course not! I’m an immortal being who has lived for millennia, I know every dance!” He just…hasn’t had a lot of chances to do them with anyone else. If anything, he’s the one who should be teaching her, but most ones he knows would probably require four extra limbs.</p><p>For now, he spins her under his arm and joins her in simply jumping ridiculously with no rhyme or pattern to the music.</p><p>
  <em>So raise your glass if you are wrong,<br/>
In all the right ways,<br/>
All my underdogs…</em>
</p><p>The faster he moves, the more energy he shows off, the more the smile on her face widens and that laugh almost rises above the bass. Being his true self around her, not the reserved, older, fuddy-duddy he had to pretend to be, always brought a shine to her eyes on every one of their ‘days out’. It will always be his favorite way of surprising her, even above bringing her wizard school fantasy as close to reality as she will know. She never lets go of his hand, twisting and twirling under his arm and circling him.</p><p>He can’t take his eyes off her. Not now. Not for the past three centuries.</p><p>
  <em>We will never be, never be,<br/>
Anything but loud and nitty gritty,<br/>
Dirty little freaks!</em>
</p><p>She sings and flaunts herself with her bare shoulders and neckline before him, looking almost like a Siren, with the way her eyes and voice have him totally at her mercy. Then her arms are around his neck, hands hooked at the back of his head, her smaller frame hanging back off him and staring up into his eyes.</p><p>Shirt, where is he supposed to put his hands? He never imagined having a partner to do this with before…The closest he’s come to dancing with anyone is Tahani in some reboots and that was far more restrained and proper than…this.</p><p>He settles for placing them on her hips.</p><p>Every ounce of oxygen in his fake lungs seems to vanish when there’s so little space between them. She feels so…relaxed. H-happy? There’s not a single flicker of fear or caution on her face.</p><p>Surely, after all of this display, she must know the extent of his powers. She knows what he’s capable of.</p><p>And yet, here she is. Perfectly comfortable in the arms of a demon.</p><p>“What is it, buddy?” she asks as the instrumental plays.</p><p>“I…” He gulps; “…I actually came around to torture you tonight.”</p><p>Fork. Why did he have to say that?</p><p>His hands on her hips might tighten, just a little, pre-empting her revulsion, her flinching out of his grip and slapping his glasses off. Spoiling an otherwise perfect evening.</p><p>But instead, she laughs. Oh, of course she laughs!</p><p>“Seriously?!”</p><p>“Yeah! Vicky and the others were saying I was going soft on you guys so I came over to make you lose your hair or give you an itchy sweater…Nothing serious, just to prove a point.” He confesses, feeling rather relieved to get it out there; “You’re not mad?”</p><p>Eleanor keeps smiling, shaking her head; “Why would I be mad? They’re clearly right! I mean why the fork didn’t you? Why did you go for the most opposite of opposite torture?”</p><p>“Because…you were miserable and…It didn’t seem fair.” He bites his lip when he realises how ridiculous that sounds when it comes to torturing someone; “Look, it only means anything if you’re not already miserable so just…Tell me when you’re happy again so I can do it then, okay!”</p><p>She blinks at him, hands still clasped tight.</p><p>“I’m feeling pretty good right now, bud.”</p><p>Michael sighs.</p><p>“Well…I don’t mean tonight…Not after I set all this up! Maybe some other day…Or maybe you can just tell Vicky I accidentally put slugs in your bed or something, just make it juicy.”</p><p>Eleanor’s grin expands and she nods, bringing one hand back briefly to poke at his bow-tie, almost teasing the idea of undoing it. It does feel a little tight. He wouldn’t complain if she did. Dark lashes bat over her enticing grey-green eyes. Her nape looks so smooth. He imagines running his finger along her shoulders.</p><p>“I can do that…I guess I owe you for cheering me up tonight.”</p><p>
  <em>And if you’re too school for cool….<br/>
And you’re treated like a fool,<br/>
You can choose to let it go.</em>
</p><p>There’s a warm tingle in his chest where he thinks his heart would be. Had he been trying to cheer her up? At what point had that become his new intention over pranking her? Oddly enough, he doesn’t regret that change of plan.</p><p>She brings herself closer, her lips moving to his ear.</p><p>“You’re a terrible demon, y’know.” She whispers; “…But you’re becoming an awesome friend.”</p><p>
  <em>We can always, we can always,<br/>
Party on our own.</em>
</p><p>Friend? He doesn’t know where he would have possibly learned how to be…</p><p>Oh. Wait.</p><p>That first day setting up the neighbourhood with Janet. When she given him the idea for frozen yoghurt without a single clue what his motivations were. <em>I dunno what just happened…But I’m happy you’re happy.</em> Was that it? Was that all it really meant to be…?</p><p>
  <em>So c’mon, c’mon,<br/>
Raise your glass!</em>
</p><p>The tempo kicks up again and Eleanor pulls back, letting out a whoop and going back to her jumping. All Michael can do is watch her, drinking in her joy like sweet nectar.</p><p>He has has no idea what happened tonight.</p><p>But he’s happy that she’s happy.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>*  *  *</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Did you get the recipe off the wiki page or something?” Eleanor asks, feet dangling over the edge of the Astronomy tower, mug of butterbeer in her hands.</p><p>“Nah, I based it on what you always imagined it tasted like. Why am I not surprised it’s basically a pint-sized margarita?”</p><p>He clinks his glass against hers as they sit together on the battlements, at the highest point of the castle with the starlit sky above their head. She takes a swig and gives a hum of satisfaction at the taste, while Michael’s not the biggest fan of tequila, he enjoys the sugary taste.</p><p>“Did you know some kids just tried to mix butter with whisky to make this stuff?” He tells her.</p><p>“Ugh! And they say America is to blame for kids being obese.” She cringes, taking another drink and wiping the foam from her lips. She looks spent, her hair out of place from all that dancing, sweat mixing with the perfume he’d gifted her with that dress.</p><p>She’s gorgeous, Michael thinks.</p><p>He’s about to ask if she wants a top up but his words are blocked by a yawn.</p><p>“Are you tired? I didn’t even think you could do that.” She asks him, either confused or…worried? No, more likely just confused.</p><p>“M’not supposed to. I don’t even need to sleep, it’s just…I’ve never made a simulation this big and immersive before. I guess it took it outta me. Janet’s gonna be pissed, not that she’ll say anything but she’s working on being passive aggressive from Tahani.” He explains.</p><p>Eleanor slides her arm under his and rests against his shoulder. Funny, he doesn’t remember offering himself as pillow.</p><p>“Well make sure you get a good rest after this so we can ace that test tomorrow. I don’t wanna have to explain to Chidi the reason we flunked is ‘cause we were partying in a Hogwarts VR to help me get over him not being in love with me.” She tells him, feeling nice and warm pressed against him.</p><p>He takes a breath when hearing the way her voice breaks at their teacher’s name.</p><p>“I don’t get why you’re so hung up on him. I mean…he’s just one guy. One boring, indecisive, self-righteous know-it-all – You could so much better.” He bemoans; “Okay, I take it back, you can’t, because the alternative choices you have are an idiot and narcissist, but I still don’t see what the fuss is all about.”</p><p>“The fuss is about him being kind and sweet and brilliant and refusing to give up on helping anyone when they ask for it.” She attempts to tell him; “The fuss is about all the cute things you don’t get to see when it’s just me and him in the house together, all the little habits he has like planning his next lesson aloud in a rap as he does the dishes, or doing push ups with his shirt off when I’m pretending to take a nap and not secretly watching him.”</p><p>“Still not getting the ‘cute’ part of any of that but, go on.” He takes another sip.</p><p>“And most of all…The way he looked at me. Like, not the way he looks at me now, but when I watch that tape from Mindy’s and I’m with him in bed and he’s looking at me like I’m…everything.” She says, almost in mourning; “I want him to look at me like that again. What if that was the only time it will ever happen to me? My one experience at true love and I don’t even remember it…”</p><p>Michael sees the shards begin to form again. No. Damn it, no, not after how successful he was tonight!</p><p>“Do you want me to give you those memories back?” He offers.</p><p>“You can do that?”</p><p>He nods. Then he feels a twinge at the thought it would mean her seeing all the times he was far, far crueller to her than he’s ever been in this reboot. No matter how many times he’s attempted to scare her or show off his powers, it was never with the same malicious intent as before, especially at the start when she was nothing but a hot thorn in his side, a pretty bug to squash.</p><p>But if it made her happy, even at the cost of her not thinking him such an awesome friend anymore then…</p><p>“Actually, forget it.” Eleanor waves off; “It might be worse me knowing all of it and him still not wanting to be with me again. The tape is bad enough…I wish I’d never seen it, I wouldn’t know what I was missing. Can you erase my memory of that?”</p><p>“I could but it would mean taking away the memory of the past couple weeks and me joining your side.”</p><p>Her face falls; “Oh…”</p><p>“I mean…If it’s what you wanted-.”</p><p>“No.” She tells him, firmly.</p><p>Her grip on his arm tightens.</p><p>“No forking way…”</p><p>Wow, she must have really enjoyed tonight. The shards remain but are softer now, their edges dulled, worn down by a smooth whisp of contentment forming around her. Her sleepy eyes look out at the view in front of them, the lake stretching out to the hills and the lights of a small town which he has no where near enough energy in him to create tonight. All he can do is look at the outline of her face, eyelashes slowly batting, red lips slightly parted as if preparing to say something else.</p><p>Did she have to be so beautiful? How could he be expected to ever hate her, human or otherwise?</p><p>“Is that hug still on offer?” she finally asks.</p><p>“Uhm…did you steal a knife from the Great Hall?”</p><p>“Just put your arm around me.”</p><p>He obeys and, slipping it out from her grip. First the takes his tailcoat off and puts it around her shoulders, still unsure if she’s cold or not, but noticing more of those little bumps. It swamps her like a blanket but she doesn’t complain, not as he puts his arm around her shoulder and pulls her in close. He thinks he’s starting to get the appeal of all this close touching humans do, though he’s still not sure about the food hole mashing and sweaty naked rutting.</p><p>But this…Just feeling his fingers through her hair, feeling how soft it is, this he can get.</p><p>“Can I ask you something?”</p><p>“Sure, bud.” Eleanor responds, cradling her pint glass in her lap with both hands.</p><p>“…How did you know you still loved Chidi in this reboot?” he asks, “Was it just from seeing the tape?”</p><p>She pauses for a moment.</p><p>“I dunno. I mean before that I was sure I couldn’t stand him. Like you say, he was SO annoying, he just drove me crazy, making me think I would never be good enough to be…good like he wanted.” Eleanor explains; “But then when I saw the tape, I realised…It wasn’t Chidi making me feel bad about how much I sucked. He wasn’t the one telling me I was never gonna be good enough. It was me. It was me feeling like I could never become better, while he was the one who thought I was capable…And when I saw how he looked at me in that tape, it was like I knew for sure I could become that person…That good person who another good person would want to fall in love with…Any of that make sense because I’m not even sure it did to me?”</p><p>Michael is silent. Her words dig into him, one by one, burying themselves deeper and deeper and still ongoing. He can feel them all hitting home but not all in the right order. Even though their current height isn’t real, he suddenly feels a dizzying sense of vertigo.</p><p>Tonight, he’d had a clear choice. Light or dark. Good or bad.</p><p>And it would have been perfectly understandable to pick the easy one. The bad one, the path he had always known, had always trusted to lead him to his familiar, lonely spot.</p><p>Instead, he’d gone the opposite way for once. Not for anyone’s benefit, not to save his own worthless butt, but for her.</p><p>
  <em>Because she believes I can be better than this.</em>
</p><p>Her foot slides around his knee, as if wrapping every part of herself around him. In that red dress, she could almost be a fire squid herself…Definitely the prettiest one.</p><p>“I dunno, I mean, it’s not like I know for sure what love is or understand it. I used to be like you, thinking it was all pointless garbage, that none of it was real. Just crab made up to sell valentines cards and get people to watch whatever Colin Firth was starring in.” She says, “But, just my luck, it took being mowed down by shopping carts for me to be somewhere where I can…believe it exists, even if I don’t understand what the fork it’s about…Not just with being around Chidi but…all my friends. Tahani, Jason, Janet…and a certain magical silver fox I’m getting quite fond of.”</p><p>“There’s a fox? I thought I only let a panda loose.”</p><p>“I mean you, you dork.” She jostles him, head nearly resting on his chest.</p><p>Oh.</p><p>…</p><p>
  <em>Oh!</em>
</p><p>Eleanor sits up, moving a hand from her mug to rest on Michael’s cheek. He blinks at her, completely at odds, willing to be at her mercy, to be her student, disciple, servant, slave, pet, fork it, he’ll fold and crumble at her feet if it means she’ll keep him close. She moves in close, brushing her lips to the corner of his own, finding both his cheek and his mouth, melting him for the three bliss-filled seconds before she moves back. She smiles at him, her hand remaining, thumb smoothing below his eye.</p><p>“Thanks for the best Not Torture, Michael.” She tells him, before resting her head back down, snuggling into his chest.</p><p>He exhales. The only time he ever seems to need to breathe is around her.</p><p><em>You’re welcome.</em> He doesn’t say the words, he just lets her fall asleep.</p><p>Once he’s sure she’s out, he snaps his fingers. The castle and their party outfits, as well as the butter beer, all vanishes without a trace. They’re still on Eleanor’s doorstep, except now there’s a curtain closed around them.</p><p>“Janet?” he says, trying not to be too loud.</p><p>“Hi there.” She says with a bing, opening the curtain; “You and Eleanor were in that simulation for three hours so I thought it best to put an invisibility curtain around you before the demons got suspicious.”</p><p>“Ooh, that was a brilliant idea! Thanks.” Fork, he hadn’t even thought about that.</p><p>How weird would it have looked with him and Eleanor frozen, hand in hand, in front of her house for all that time, while they experienced a whole other world in their minds? And then to appear, all of a sudden, snuggled close on the doorstep? That would have definitely needed explaining to Vicky. He really is lucky to have Janet.</p><p>He’s lucky to have anyone, but especially to have these weird but wonderful souls that seem to have been caught in his gravitational pull after an eternity of being a single, lonely rock floating through in space.</p><p>Maybe being a terrible demon, maybe being ‘soft’, wasn’t as bad as the alternative. Maybe. Fork, when did thinking become so tiring, as if using up so much magic wasn’t draining enough.</p><p>He notices that Janet is still there.</p><p>“…What?”</p><p>“You two look sweet.” She comments, head tilted as she looks at Eleanor.</p><p>He tenses up. Okay, soft is one thing, but <em>sweet</em>? That’s pushing it.</p><p>“Shut up. Go to your void.” He dismisses her and she bings out, still smiling away.</p><p>Enough softness and sweetness for one night. He’ll move Eleanor inside and dump her on the sofa. Chidi’s probably asleep by now and if not, Michael will convince him he’s sleepwalking and make him think all his books have sprouted wings and are trying to fly away…just for a laugh. If the dweeb had any sense, he’d realise how fortunate he was to have the most amazing human in existence completely head over heels in love with him! And all for being his goody goody self, no magic powers or cool suits required, as if they would mean anything in comparison. How does he live with Eleanor Shellstrop day in, day out, and not want to be as close to her as possible, absorbed in her adoring gaze, submitting to her divine touch?</p><p>Not that Michael would ever think such things…Since when has he had any sense about anything? All he knows is to follow Eleanor, wherever she goes, his guiding light in the darkness.</p><p>He’ll leave her the wand as a souvenir before he goes. Not that it will have any magic other than as a simple torch. Can’t have her getting too powerful or she’ll be ruling the entire Bad Place in a month. Which might not be so bad, but the last thing they need right now in their plan is a full-scale war, no matter how many homemade grenades Jason is prepared to craft. But the wand will let her know, when she wakes, that it wasn’t just a dream, just as his ugly, yellow toddler has served him well all these years.</p><p>Later. He just wants to sit with her for five more minutes. Maybe ten. Maybe sixty. Whenever the fork he’s ready.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>